


Death and Wandering

by AshWinterGray



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Death Of Steve Harrington, Hippies, Horses, I Apologize for spelling, I might make this a story, Major character death - Freeform, Nobody Actually Dies, Other, Other Characters Are Mentioned, Steve Harrington Takes Control of His Future, Traveling, Vagabond, Vagabond Steve Harrington, hands on learning, learning, not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-21 22:51:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17651345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshWinterGray/pseuds/AshWinterGray
Summary: He’d been asleep, in his bedroom, when it happened. His parents were screaming from downstairs, and the smell of smoke filled his nose. He found out later, much later, that his mother had forgotten to turn off the stove. One thing led to another, and the entire house was on fire. Steve had just enough time to grab his wallet, a jacket, and some shoes, before he had to leave the house. His parents went out the front, he went out his back window. The fire was so bad that several of the trees were catching fire and it was impossible to round the house and get to the front yard.Steve Harrington is declared dead, but he is very much alive. So he figured he would just roll with it.





	Death and Wandering

**Author's Note:**

> I deeply apologize for any spelling mistakes.
> 
> And if I offend anyone, I swear I am not trying to offend anyone. I based these characters off people I know and stories I have heard.

            He’d been asleep, in his bedroom, when it happened. His parents were screaming from downstairs, and the smell of smoke filled his nose. He found out later, much later, that his mother had forgotten to turn off the stove. One thing led to another, and the entire house was on fire. Steve had just enough time to grab his wallet, a jacket, and some shoes, before he had to leave the house. His parents went out the front, he went out his back window. The fire was so bad that several of the trees were catching fire and it was impossible to round the house and get to the front yard. Steve raced through the woods, doing his best to outrun the fire and try to get back to his front yard. He ran for hours before he found a safe place at the quarry. Ducking around the familiar path, Steve made back for his house. He had his hood up so no one could see his face. And that was how he heard it.

            “They just declared Steve Harrington dead,” a woman was gossiping to another. It took Steve a moment to realize he heard Karen Wheeler’s voice. “Nancy and Mike were both devastated. The house is completely gone, and they say it would be lucky for them to even find a piece of the body.”

            He was dead? Part of him had half a mind to walk right up to Karen Wheeler and say hello. Maybe freak her out, or at least tell them that he was alive. But no one seemed to recognize him with the hood of his jacket up. This was an odd turn of events. Steve continued his trek back to his house only to find what Karen said to be true. The house was gone, and a group of people was shifting through the charred material that remained. It was devastating.

            “Poor kid,” a fireman sighed as he went to sit against the truck. “Heard he was supposed to graduate soon too. His whole life laid out for him and he never got to live it.”

            And there was something in that sentence that set Steve off. Because, looking at his life, Steve’s whole life had been set out for him. He never really got a say in what he wanted to do in his life. Taking a step back, Steve walked away from the house with a fire in his heart. He had no intention of telling anyone he was alive.

            His first stop was the bank. He made up a story about having to move quite suddenly that the banker bought. Steve was glad he had kept his account secret. Nancy had recommended he make the account in case he did decide on college. Though even Steve knew he would just work for his father. But his parents were unaware of the account, so Steve had no problem emptying it. His second stop was an old clothing shop. Since it was early, and a Thursday, it was easy for Steve to by clothes hidden by his hoodie. Then he picked up a few food items and a backpack and was hiking along the road.

            No one in Hawkins knew he was alive. He simply walked the road, aiming for the next town. He was going to take his life into his own hands, and nothing would make him go back.

\--------------------------------

            He’d been wandering the road for some time when he came across a house in the middle of nowhere. And a woman was struggling with her groceries. She was just about to drop a bag full of food when he dove forward and caught it.

            “Careful,” he chuckled as he took a second bag for her. He noticed her jump. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. I was just passing by and noticed you struggling.”

            The woman looked to the end of her driveway in question.

            “Oh, no, I walked,” Steve stated a bit awkwardly. “See, my car got fried, and I have to get something from Chicago. Figured I’d do it today, but the whole car situation meant I had to walk.”

            “How long have you been walking?” the woman asked skeptically.

            “Not long,” Steve shrugged. “Maybe three hours. I was just going to get to the next town and take a bus. The bus doesn’t really run where I live.”

            Most of that was not a lie. His car was in fact fried, which made him nervous about the nail bat. But there were other things to focus on beside that old piece of wood and metal.

            “Oh,” she seemed surprised. “Okay. Thank you.”

            “I can,” Steve paused as he awkwardly lifted a bag. “I can help take these inside. I’ll be on my way as soon as I get these on a counter or table if you like.”

            The woman frowned again. “There is no way you’ll make it be nightfall,” she hummed more to herself than him. “Why don’t you at least stay the night? Unless your business in Chicago is urgent.”

            Steve shook his head. “My business isn’t urgent, but I don’t want to pry either.”

            “Not at all,” the woman stated. “It’s just me and my sister. We don’t get many visitors. I insist.”

            Steve chuckled. “If you insist.”

            The woman led him into the house and they carefully placed down the groceries. He helped the woman put the groceries away.

            “I don’t think I got your name,” Steve nearly froze as he put a few cans into a pantry.

            He couldn’t give his real name. What if his death ended up in the newspaper or the TV? They’d know who he was and insist he go back. He couldn’t go back. Not now. He’d have to give a fake name. Steve wracked his brain.

            “I haven’t given it yet,” he called as he put the last can on the shelf. “I’m Christopher.” A pretty common name. “Christopher William.”

            He just hoped Will would forgive him for stealing his name. The woman hummed and put a thing of apples in a bowl before turning to Steve.

            “I’m Becky Ives,” she stated with a smile. “Thank you again, by the way. I really appreciated the help.”

            “No problem,” Steve grinned.

            Terry Ives, Becky’s sister, seemed to be lost in her own head. Becky explained that it was believed that her sister had gone mad over the loss of her daughter. Steve pitied her, and he had the terrifying image of Joyce Byers becoming like this had they not gotten Will back. It made Steve cringe. But he remained polite, helping where he could and letting Becky talk.

            He stuck around the next day, helping to fix parts of the house Becky couldn’t fix herself. Neither Becky nor Steve were aware of Terry watching the Hawkins news channel where Steve’s death was announced beside his picture. She changed the channel, hiding it from Becky.

            “Steve” Terry mumbled the words as Steve was helping Becky cook in the kitchen. “Harrington.”

            The following morning, Steve shared one last breakfast with the sisters, wished them goodbye, placed some money in the guest room, and made his trip to Chicago. Before he left, Steve used Becky’s camera to get a picture with both sisters, and Terry seemed to be smiling in the picture. Becky had the picture made and framed two days after Steve left.

\-------------------------

            Steve did make to Chicago, but he chose to go further than Chicago. He did a lot of walking and hitchhiking. There were people kind enough to take him places, even when he didn’t have a destination in mind. There was one couple who took Steve quite a few places. Harold and Vanesa were a couple of hippies, but they were great people who knew all the best places to see.

            “How do you guys find these places?” Steve asked one day as they soaked at the foot of a waterfall somewhere in Kansas. “I’ve never heard of them.”

            “Word of ear, man, word of ear,” Harold hummed. “That, and we go to those rest stops sometimes that have those brochures. The ones that tell you about those tourist spots no one visits.”

            “He has an entire box full of brochures,” Vanesa stated groggily. And honestly, Steve had thought she might have fallen asleep. That woman could fall asleep anywhere. “I’ve no idea why he keeps them.”

            “Every man needs a hobby,” Harold chuckled. “Speaking of hobbies, any idea where you plan to go next my wandering friend?”

            “Dunno,” Steve shrugged, letting the water ripple around him. “Maybe Arkansas. That’s close, right? I should probably find a part time job anyways.”

            “You going to ditch us, Williams?” Vanesa called from the other side of her husband.

            And, yes, Steve was still going by Christopher Williams. He could bring himself to go by his original name. It was dangerous in his eyes. Then again, going by Steve Harrington would have been odd in general. Steve Harrington was who he used to be. The rich kid everyone pushed around. Christopher Williams was the free bird.

            “Maybe,” Steve hummed. “It’d be better than Harold’s cooking skills.”

            Harold splashed them both as Vanesa burst out laughing. Vanesa usually did the cooking, but there would be sometimes when Harold would try, and it would just be _awful._ Vanesa and Steve had a pact to make sure Harold would not be able to cook.

            “Don’t we have friends in Conway?” Harold asked.

            “Conway?” Steve questioned as he pulled himself from the water.

            “Nice place just above Little Rock, Arkansas,” Vanesa hummed. “We went there, maybe twice. We can go up there for a visit. Maybe drop you off.”

            Steve grinned. Leave it to Vanesa and Harold to be the ones to have a plan. Steve just liked winging it.

            They got him to Conway, and someone at the camp got him new shoes. With a new backpack and new supplies, Steve took to walking again. A bit of walking and a bit of Hitchhiking got Steve to Mammoth Springs. That was where he met Jeff.

            “Come on Christopher!” Jeff called out with a laugh as the horse knocked Steve over.

            Jeff needed an extra stable hand, and when Steve told the guy he was looking for a job, Jeff made the offer. He wasn’t married, but he had a girlfriend named Penny. She was sweet, and she served a lot of food. There were a few other helpers around Jeff’s farm, but none of them were very good with the horses. And Steve was willing to learn.

            It took Steve months to befriend the horses. By the time Steve finally became a horse master, Steve had already been there for six months. Sometimes Steve would just spend all day in the stables with the horses. Jeff teased him about it.

            But even though Steve loved the horses, he couldn’t resist the urge that had over taken him the day of the fire. Steve had been with Jeff a total of nine months before he decided it was time to move on. Jeff wasn’t surprised by Steve’s urge. He was surprised how long it took Steve to realize his urge.

            “We’ll miss you,” Penny hugged Steve tight before handing him several packets of food and an extra blanket.

            “I’ll miss you guys too,” Steve laughed. “Thank you. It was wonderful to learn from you.”

            He said goodbye to the horses too. That was probably the most painful thing he had ever done. But it was as the after noon came, and he got into a big truck with a nice man, that he realized that this was the anniversary of the day he “died” and left home.

            “You headed anywhere special?” the guy asked.

            “Just anywhere,” Steve shrugged.

            It really didn’t matter.

\------------------------------------

            The second place Steve settled, which was only for four months, but that wasn’t a surprise to anyone who met him, was actually in Arizona. This odd woman named Cindy offered him a job when she thought he was homeless. He technically was, but she didn’t seem to mind he was a vagabond. That was the term he learned that went with what he did. A vagabond.

            But Cindy of Arizona had this mechanic company, and she taught Steve to fix things. Anything really. Her brother, Kyle, was a carpenter. Steve learned what he could from the two. They taught him how to create with the two items. How to fix with the two items.

            “You’ve just got a knack,” Cindy stated one night as they sat smoking on the porch. It had been a long time since Steve had smoked. “Bet you could learn anything.”

            “Not likely,” Steve released a breath of smoke. “I can’t do English or History for the life of me.”

            “Neither could I,” Cindy laughed. “But you are more of a hands-on type of guy. More physical. You are one of those people who would have died in an office.”

            That had in been Steve’s greatest fear. Not that he would tell anyone that. He’d thought a lot about the reason he had left home, and he came to the conclusion that it was because of the future. He didn’t want the future that was laid out for him.

            “Come on, Williams,” Cindy stood and slapped Steve’s shoulder. “Time to get some rest.”

            Learning from Cindy and Kyle had been nice, but the urge to leave again was strong, and Steve went off after four months of their company. It was in Wyoming that he met some familiar faces again.

            “That can’t be Christopher Williams!” a female voice screamed at him.

            Steve grinned as he turned to face the familiar van of Harold and Vanesa. Vanesa’s head was sticking out of the window as the van slowed down. He quickly scrambled in to greet the couple and their new baby. Her name, they told him, was Charity.

            “Where are we headed?” Steve questioned.

            “California,’ Harold grinned. “We’re head to a festival down there. “You should check it out. I’m sure you’d like it.”

            “Alright,” Steve grinned as he bounced baby Charity on his lap.

            Two days into his trip to California, Steve told Vanesa and Harold the truth. About his real name. His old life. His fire. His fake death. They listened carefully, but they didn’t mock him for his choice.

            “Listen, my friend,” Harold got that look that said he was about to deliver words of wisdom. And he _always_ gave words of wisdom. “I’m not saying you have to go back. Not at all. But you should at least let your parents know you are alive. Your parents and your kids. If Charity here ever ran off, which would be impressive since she is a baby, I would still like to know my baby is okay.”

            “They may not have been around,” Vanesa placed a hand on Steve’s back. “But they are your parents. And even terrible parents still care for their children.”

            Steve nodded. He thought of Joyce and Will and Jonathan. That pain the family went through when Will was in danger. How Joyce shut down the day of the funeral. One day he would go back to Indiana. Just not yet.

            The festival in California was amazing, and Steve marveled at the ocean. The music, the trailers and vans, the lights. It was all amazing. Steve wondered why he hadn’t joined Vanesa and Harold for these events before. That answer came by the second day when he got the urge to wander again.

            He stayed till the end of the festival though. Just enjoying himself and meeting new people. That was one of Steve’s favorite things to do; meet new people. And when the festival was over, he began to travel with Vanesa and Harold again. The couple eventually dropped him off in New Mexico. Steve stayed about a week in New Mexico at a chapel. The priest was nice, and he was the only person Steve instantly gave his real name to. He didn’t think it was a good idea to lie to a priest.

            Then he was on his way again and hitchhiking through Texas. It was as he was walking along an old dirt road that he saw a horse throw its rider. He instantly jumped over the fence, calmed the horse, and checked over the young rider.

            “Peter!” frantic voices shouted.

            Steve stepped away so that the three other riders could check over the boy. Steve soothed the horse he had stopped as the trio of people surrounded the boy named Peter.

            “He saved me,” Peter pointed at Steve.

            The older of the four, a man who had to be the boy’s father, turned to Steve and thanked him.

            “It wasn’t a problem,” Steve hummed. “He was just spooked.”

            The horse huffed.

            “Sorry,” Steve chuckled. “ _She_ was just spooked.”

            “No, you saved my son’s life,” the man insisted, and Steve was glad he was right. “Let us thank you. Please. At least join us for dinner.”

            “I don’t want to pry,” Steve tried.

            “Nonsense,” the man shook his head. “Its always nice to have company. Especially someone who can handle a horse like that. I’m Henry by the way. Henry Blackthorne. And these are my children. My eldest Tristan. My daughter Georgia. And my youngest, Peter.”

            “You can call me George,” the daughter offered her hand. “And thank you, for saving my brother.”

            “Christopher Williams,” Steve stated softly. “And thank you, but you really don’t need to treat me.”

            “Come,” Tristan tugged Steve anyways. “Mother should be done soon anyways.”

            Steve didn’t argue. Julie, Henry’s wife, was a fantastic cook. Steve told the family about his travels and jobs, and Henry offered him a job on the spot. The first thing Steve did the next morning was fix the old tractor. Once he got the tractor running, he went and greeted each of the horses. He’d loved horses ever since Jeff taught him to care for them.

            One of them lashed out at him.

            “Briggin doesn’t like strangers,” George chuckled as Steve jerked back. “Let alone people. Good luck with that one.”

            Steve didn’t even acknowledge George as he stepped forward and continued to try. It took nearly a month for Steve to gain Briggin’s trust. But once he did, he was riding the horse every day. He even taught little Peter how to properly ride. By the sixth month of Steve’s stay, though, and he had told the Blackthorne’s his name and story by that time, Briggin fell ill. By the eighth month, Briggin had passed. It came as no surprise to the Blackthorne family when Steve bid goodbye to them.

            Henry took him to the top of Texas before bidding Steve a proper goodbye. Steve continued on with hitchhiking until he reached Nebraska. And it occurred to Steve that that was the closest he had been to home in a long time. In Nebraska, Steve sent Becky and Terry a postcard each. The back of the post cards broke down Steve’s story. He then sent one to Jeff and his girlfriend, and another to Cindy and Kyle. He figured they deserved the truth. He didn’t send one to his parents or friends. He thought about it, but in the end, he couldn’t do it. He sent one to the Blackthorne’s though, letting them know he was safe, and he saved one for Vanesa and Harold. He even got Harold a few brochures of places he knew they guy might like.

\------------------------------------------

            Three years since he left Hawkins, and Steve found himself back in Chicago. His hair had been trimmed a bit. Still long, but not as wild as he had let it get during his travels. And he also had a nice goatee going as well. He met up with Jeff one other time. Sent the Blackthorne’s a Christmas card and surprised them on New Years with a visit. He’d met Vanesa and Harold again few times during his travels, and Charity was a beautiful two year old. But that didn’t have much to do with Steve’s plans at the moment other than the fact that the couple had dropped him off. Right near his father’s office. Steve figured that it was finally time. That it had been time for a while, to tell his parents that he was alive. So he marched straight into the building.

            “Hi,” Steve greeted the secretary. “My name is Christopher Williams. I’m here to see Mr. Harrington. It’s important that I get this information to him. I’m afraid it is quite urgent.”

            “Just hand it here,” the secretary, a pretty but grumpy blonde, stretched out her hand. “I’ll get it to him.”

            “I’m afraid I have to tell him in person,” Steve tried for polite. “It really is urgent he get this information immediately.”

            “Listen, Buster,” the woman snapped. “It is my job to keep people away from Mr. Harrington. You can’t just walk in there and demand things.”

            “I believe I can,” Steve chuckled.

            “What?” the blonde snapped. “You his son or something.”

            “Actually,” Steve smiled as he pulled out his old student ID. “Allow me to reintroduce myself. My name is Steve Harrington, and I need to speak with my father.”

            The blonde paled instantly and told Steve how to get to his father’s office. Steve thanked her and marched through the office to see his father.

            “Not now Brenda,” the sound of his father greeted him as he opened the door.

            “Pretty sure my name isn’t Brenda,” Steve laughed.

            John Harrington practically fell out of his chair as he took in the sight of his son. No. Actually, he did fall out of his chair with no grace. He seemed horrified to see Steve standing there.

            “Are you here to haunt me?” John whispered.

            Steve shook his head and moved to crouch in front of his father. John watched in horrified fascination as Steve took his father’s hand and pressed it to his own chest.

            “No, dad,” Steve smiled softly. “I’m here to say ‘hi, I’ve been alive the last three years. Good to see you again.’ You know, the typical sentiments you generally give a person when you haven’t seen them in a while.”

            John was cradling him to his chest before Steve could blink. Steve had never seen his father cry before. He honestly see much of his father at all through his childhood, but that was beside the point. His father sobbed on Steve’s shoulder, and Steve just chuckled softly.

            “I missed you too, dad.”

            His father promised to fetch his mother and meet him at the house within three days. Steve wanted to meet with Becky and Terry before he tried to meet with his mother. He took a taxi to the house, and Becky greeted him eagerly.

            “So do you prefer Steve or Christopher,” Becky waved the postcards in Steve’s face.

            “Christopher is fine,” Steve chuckled gently. “How are my favorite sisters?”

            Becky sighed with a tired, yet warm smile. “Hanging in there.”

            Steve couldn’t help but smile as he saw the picture of himself with Terry and Becky hanging on the wall where Terry could see it. But beside it was a picture of El, and that was an entirely other conversation than Steve expected to have.

            Seeing his mother was ten times more emotional than it should have been. He was squished between his parents for at least an hour and drowning in their tears and sobs. It was a jumble of limbs and apologizes Steve never would have expected in a million years. It was nice, in a way a parents' embrace was supposed to be.

            He went to Hopper’s cabin the next day, with permission from his parents. Hopper nearly decked him, but the hug from both Hopper and El was nice. He saw the Byers, and the rest of the Party, and Nancy later.

            “So you’re a hippie?” Lucas asked skeptically.

            “Not really,” Steve stated. “I’m a vagabond.”

            “What the heck is that?” Dustin demanded.

            Steve chuckled.

            “It means I like to wander.”

**Author's Note:**

> Does anyone else just watch the Super Bowl for the commercials?
> 
> Again, I apologizes if anyone takes offense to any of these characters. The character I made up are based off people I know and stories I have been told. 
> 
>  
> 
> I might make this an actual story.


End file.
